


Something Worthwhile

by Patolozka



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Hands, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-10-01 20:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20389093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patolozka/pseuds/Patolozka
Summary: Hands...





	Something Worthwhile

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was beta-read by nieded, thank you

Crowley's fingers were cold. Well, all of his serpent body was cold but his fingers were like ice.

He had handsome hands. Suntanned and slender and very elegant. His fingernails were long enough to be able to play the guitar but not too long to accidentally scratch. He had hands of antique statues, the hands of young Greek gods. And he could do many things with them, almost as many as he could with his tongue. 

But his fingers were cold, sometimes even too cold to touch.

...

Azipharale's fingers were quite warm. They sometimes even felt too warm for a human body.

He had small hands, hands of a plump child with fatty knucklebones and round fingertips. His fingernails were short and always well manicured. He didn't want to damage a book or ancient pergamen with them, did he? His hands had a purpose. They were not for show after all.

Maybe his hands were not an attractive sight, but he had the hands of a man who could warm your body during a chilly day, and you would freely welcome it.

…

When Crowley touched Aziraphale’s hand for the first time it felt like a burn on his delicate skin. His fingers were too hot for his cold hands, and it was such a shock for that he took a step backwards and stuttered while speaking. The angel didn't seem to notice anything, and the demon never mentioned it.

When Aziraphale took Crowley's hand in his palm for the first time it was like holding an iceberg, so cold, so icy against his warm skin. Still, he smiled and clasped that hand once more before he let it go. Crowley only blinked behind his dark shades, but when the angel didn't say a thing, he didn't comment either.

…

There was something special about holding hands. There was something special about keeping cold hands warm. There was something special about cooling warm hands when it was too hot.

Maybe it was not so important compared to the end of the world, but holding hands with the being dearest to one’s heart was always something special, something worthwhile.


End file.
